


Sweet Child O' Mine

by Winnywriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Schmoop, also sex, fluffy schmoopy schmoop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:17:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winnywriter/pseuds/Winnywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel have been fathers for about eight years now. It's not an easy job, but it's not one that either of them would trade for anything else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Domestic fluff and adorableness. Consider this my place I come to hide from any pain the show causes me. 
> 
> I have no clue how many chapters it will be. I have a vague "plot" in mind, but mostly I'm just in it for the schmoop.

It was nearly nine o'clock, and Cas still wasn't home.

His flight was late, last Dean had heard, his arrival time going from four to six and finally to eight-thirty. Dean had cooked dinner – their usual Thursday pizza – and saved him a helping, but had wound up bundling it in saran wrap and putting it in the fridge when he realized that it would only get cold anyway. And now it was nine o'clock, and he still had no idea when Cas would be home.

Dean wouldn't have minded so much if he had been the only one missing him.

"Is daddy home yet?"

He sighed as he tucked their daughter into her crisp blue sheets and forced himself to smile, even if it was a sad excuse for one. "Not yet, Mare," he said. "Soon."

She pouted, burrowing into her pillow. "You said that yesterday. You said he'd be home today."

"I know, but..." He felt helpless as he smoothed down her long dark hair. "His plane is just a little late. That's all. He'll be here when you wake up."

It was times like this that Dean really saw a lot of Castiel in her; Mary Hephzibah Winchester had her father's penchant for sulking when the mood struck, and it had struck hard now. "I wanted him to read  _Goodnight Moon..._ "

"I could read you  _Goodnight Moon,_ " Dean offered, but she shook her head, her hair spilling into her face.

"Daddy always reads me  _Goodnight Moon._  You read me  _Where the Wild Things Are._ "

Dean smiled warmly. "Do you want me to read that instead?"

"You read it last night," Mary said, pouting anew. Dean gently tucked one strand of dark hair behind her ear and leaned in to kiss her temple when she lay back against the pillow. Her voice was small when she spoke again: "Can't I stay up a little longer...?"

"It's already past your bedtime. And your daddy won't be back until a lot later anyway. You wouldn't be able to stay awake. I don't think  _I'll_ be able to stay awake."

"I could try!" She was sitting up again, but Dean kept a hand on her shoulder, keeping her from getting riled again.

"He'll be here in the morning," he said, smiling tiredly even as he kept his tone firm.

He tucked her blanket up to her chin, and she peeked out from behind it. "Promise?"

"Promise," he said with a nod, and he got up from the bed, made sure her owl-shaped night light was glowing in the far corner after he'd turned out the light and pulled the door nearly closed. "G'night, Mare."

"Goodnight, Papa," she mumbled against her pillow.

* * *

His phone was ringing on his nightstand when he got to his bedroom, and he nearly dove across the mattress to get at it, holding it to his ear before even looking at the number on the screen. "You're late," he said.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean rolled onto his back, smiling in spite of himself. "Tell me you're calling to say you landed."

"Well..."

"Aw, Cas..." he groaned. A frown tugged at his lips and brow. "Don't give me more bad news."

Castiel's sigh cause static to bloom in the receiver. "Our plane had engine trouble. It's going to be at least another few hours." He sounded just as tired as Dean felt. "I'm sorry, Dean..."

Dean blew a glorified raspberry between his lips and let his arm fall limp on the bedspread beside him. "S'not your fault."

"I was hoping to be home by now."

"Believe me, I was hoping that too. And so was Mary."

"Did you put her to bed already?"

"Yeah, but she fought me on it."

He could hear the smile in Cas' voice, and he mirrored it. "I don't doubt that." Dean burrowed under the blankets, resting his head on the cool pillow and musing to himself about how nice it would be to have someone else there to help him warm them. "She gets that from you, you know," Castiel was saying when he pulled his attention back to the conversation at hand.

"Me?" Dean scoffed. "She gets the rebellion from you, hands down. It's probably genetic, and she didn't get any chromosomes from me."

"Since when have you known me to rebel?" He could hear the grin in Cas' voice, and it made warmth flow from Dean's chest to his fingers and toes.

"I've known you to steal extra pudding from the fridge at three in the morning."

"You do that far more than I ever have."

Dean arched an eyebrow. "Oh, so you admit it then." Cas chuckled, and Dean did with him. They slipped into a comfortable silence, Dean lying in the too-large bed with his arm stretched out to the side while its other usual occupant was off in some airport probably in desperate need of a shower.

He stroked his knuckles over the empty sheets, staring at the ceiling. "I can wait up for you."

"Don't, Dean," Castiel sighed. "I'll be hours. And you need your rest."

"I need you," Dean said, and he almost grimaced at the cheesiness of it, but then smirked instead. "Need you here so we can get around to having that welcome home sex we're due."

"You'll get it," Cas assured him, and Dean could damn near  _hear_ his matching smirk. "Soon. But not tonight, Dean. Just go to bed. I'll be there when you wake up."

It was Dean's turn to sigh, a deep ache settling behind his ribs. He tried to keep his tone lighthearted, but it still felt heavy when he said, "Does that mean phone sex is out of the question, then?"

"Given that I'm sitting in the middle of a public waiting area, I'm going to have to say yes."

"Damn." Castiel's soft laugh made a pleasant warmth unseat the ache in his chest, if only for a moment. "Here when I wake up...is that a promise?"

Castiel hesitated before saying, "I don't know if I can promise it...I can't exactly sprout wings and fly there myself. But I'll do my very best, Dean. I can promise that much."

"You better work on sprouting some wings," Dean said. "Cause if you're not here in the morning, I'm gonna have a very unhappy eight-year-old to deal with."

"I'll keep that in mind." Dean felt the end of the conversation looming, but damn, he wanted more than anything to stall it, even if it had been a long day and he and Cas were both having trouble keeping their eyes open. He could hear it in Castiel's voice, could almost picture his eyelids drooping, his head nodding toward his chest, shoulders slumped...God, he just wanted to kiss him.

He was absolutely whipped, and he adored every second of it, dammit.

"Did you fall asleep on me?" Cas asked, and Dean blinked, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, I wish." Cas huffed out a soft laugh. "What have I become, getting tired when it's barely nine-fifteen?"

"I'd imagine it comes with the territory of parenthood."

"Maybe...I'll see you in the morning."

"In the morning," Castiel agreed. "Goodnight, Dean."

"Goodnight..." He paused a beat. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Dean closed his eyes and pictured his tired smile.

"I love you too. Sleep well."

* * *

It felt like he'd just drifted off to sleep when he woke up to the sensation of tiny hands gripping at his T-shirt, and he blinked the grogginess from his eyes and glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. It was half past eleven, Cas still wasn't home, and Mary was curled up against his side, buried under the sheets like a shy little mouse.

He wrapped an arm around her and sleepily croaked, "What're you doin' outta bed, huh?"

"B'd dwm..." she mumbled against his ribs. He smiled, rubbing his eyes.

"Bad dream?" he asked, and she nodded. He pulled the covers back, looking down as she stared up at him with big blue eyes from under a fringe of dark bangs. He brushed them from her face. "C'mon," he coaxed as he rubbed her back. "Tell me about it."

She pressed her nose to his chest again, as if trying to hide in his T-shirt. "Don't remember," she murmured.

He ran his knuckles up and down her back. "Then what are you afraid of?" he asked, and she just snuggled closer to him. "You wanna go back to your bed?" She shook her head. "You wanna stay here for a bit?" A nod, and he sighed, though his smile remained. "Alright...just for a little bit, okay?"

She said nothing, but relaxed against him, and he waited for her breathing to become even and slow. It didn't take long. When she was asleep, he gingerly slid out of bed, picking her up and carrying her to her own room. She curled beneath the covers as soon as he laid her down and tucked her in, kissing her temple.

"No more bad dreams, okay?" he said. He wondered if she heard him. It was good advice to follow himself at the very least.

The bed was warm and welcoming when he crawled back into it, even if it was still a little too big. He fell asleep again within moments of laying his head down on the pillow, and only woke up for the second time that night when he felt the mattress shift and the covers being pulled back. Something brushed against his arm, something much bigger than an eight year old girl, and he sat bolt upright, whirling around and nearly throwing the sheets off of him before his gaze rested on a familiar face.

"I'm sorry..." Cas whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Jesus Cas..." Dean wiped the sleep from his eyes and dragged a hand through his bed-head. "Christ, you scared the shit out of me."

"Not my intention."

Realization settled in Dean's gut, spreading warm through his rib cage, and he smiled. Cas' hair was a mess, and even in the low light, Dean could see the heavy bags beneath his eyes and exhaustion weighing on his brow. But he was  _home._  As Dean shifted, bringing his body closer, the warmth of Castiel's skin and his soft, musky scent – even if it was hidden beneath the smell of airport – made the bed feel just the right size.

"C'mere," he said, settling back against the pillows and extending an arm, and Cas snuggled up to him, humming in contentment as Dean pressed a kiss to his jaw. "You smell like airplane."

Cas groaned. "I know...I need a shower, but I'm exhausted..."

"What time is it anyway?" Dean squinted at the digital clock on their bedside table, trying to get his eyes to focus.

"A little past four," Cas grumbled, pulling the covers over them both. "That welcome home sex will have to wait...I can barely keep my-" He yawned magnificently. "...my eyes open."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I can see that."

Cas answered him with a soft snore.

* * *

All things considered, Dean woke up feeling pretty well rested when light washed over his eyelids. He was even up before his alarm for once, and as he sat up and stretched, Cas shifted beside him. He'd claimed most of the blankets during the night, a messy tuft of dark hair poking out from beneath them all that gave him away. Dean leaned down to kiss it, softly, before slipping out of bed to get the coffee going.

Mary was already awake, peeping at him from beneath her comforter when he went to get her up for school. "Any more nightmares?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"Is daddy back yet?" was the first thing out of her mouth. Dean should have seen it coming.

He hummed his affirmation, and she was out of bed like a shot, bolting for the door to head across the hall, but he caught her before she could pass him, hoisting her up into his arms. She was getting heavier, growing like a weed, and he wondered when she'd hit her first big growth spurt. Cas had been a late bloomer, so maybe she would take after him. Then again, maybe it was different with girls. They were supposed to mature faster than boys, Dean had heard. He believed it too; sometimes their daughter acted like she was years past her actual age, though he could hardly be surprised when she shared half of Castiel's genome.

"Hold on there, Mare," he chided gently, letting her settle in the crook of his arm so that he could look her in the eye. "Dad's still sleeping. He had a late night. Needs his beauty rest."

"Boys don't need beauty rest," Mary said with a pout.

"Oh yes they do. You don't want to see him before he has his coffee. Trust me. He looks like a regular bog monster." She giggled as he brushed a knuckle against her nose, and he grinned. There was something damn satisfying about making the kid laugh.

Once Mary was dressed, her hair and teeth brushed and her shoes tied, Dean fired up the stove and made pancakes – star-shaped: a pain in the ass, but Mary's favorite – and chopped up some bananas with a dollop of organic peanut butter. Mary ate like Dean did a lot of the time, like she hadn't had a bite in days, and she had strawberry syrup all over her mouth by the time he could get in there with a napkin and wipe it off. "Food's not going anywhere you know. Slow down or you'll make yourself sick."

Mary pouted, but did take a few smaller bites. Dean playfully ruffled her hair as he added, "And drink your milk. It's good for your bones."

"What are pancakes good for?" she asked.

"Your gallbladder," Dean lied.

Mary squinted at him in such a Castiel-ish way that he had to laugh. "What's a gallbladder?"

"It's a thing in your tummy that pancakes are good for." He arched his eyebrows at her. "Milk."

She shrugged and sipped it.

He was smiling at he looked up at the sound of someone shuffling down the stairs, and Cas rounded the corner in a rumpled gray T-shirt and a pair of Dean's sweatpants with his hair mussed beyond recognition and his face contorted in a deep yawn. There was no stopping Mary this time as she leaped out of her chair and wrapped her slim arms around his legs.

"Daddy!" She nuzzled against his pants. "You're home!"

His smile was a tired one, but full of warmth as he leaned down to hug her. "Good morning, bug," he said, his voice even more gravelly than usual, if that was even possible. He knelt in front of their daughter, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I missed you."

Her arms were around his neck a moment later, and her voice was muffled as she said, "I missed you more."

"You're up bright and early," Dean said, one eyebrow arched.

Castiel straightened, leading Mary back to the kitchen table by one hand and hoisting her into her chair. "I know. I smelled coffee."

"Did you bring me a present, Daddy?" Mary asked, swinging her legs from the edge of the chair. Cas leaned down just enough to tap her on the nose with one finger.

"Mmhm," he hummed. "In fact, I brought you  _two._ "

Mary's face lit up like the world's cutest Christmas tree, and she bounced excitedly in her chair. "Really?" Cas always brought her back little gifts when he went off on these trips: little things like snow globes and picture books and bows for her hair. He spoiled the kid, but Dean wasn't about to change a damn thing about it.

He nodded again. "You'll get one when you get home from school today, and the other when you finish all your homework tonight."

Her face fell, and Dean chuckled. Cas was truly a master tactician. "Alright," Dean said, rubbing his hands together as he stood. "C'mon, Mare. Finish your breakfast. The quicker we get you to school, the quicker you can get home and get your present, right?"

"Right..." Mary agreed reluctantly. She went to the coat rack just inside the front door, pulling her backpack from the hook. Dean took her coat and helped her into it before grabbing his own. But there was one more thing to do before taking the eight-year-old to school.

He stepped between Cas and the coffee machine, putting a hand on Castiel's chest. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting some coffee," Cas said in a tone that suggested quite forcefully that he was in no mood to be messed with.

"Uh-ah. What you're getting is another few hours of sleep."

"Dean-"

"C'mon, Cas. You're running on fumes here. Four hours, tops. You don't have to go back to work until tomorrow. Just sleep in for once, huh?" He ran a gentle hand up Castiel's arm, lowering his tone. "Keep the bed warm for me until I get back."

"Papa," Mary called, sounding impatient. "We're gonna be late!"

Dean chuckled, pressing a kiss to Cas' chapped lips. "Back to bed," he said. "Now."

"Alright, alright..." Cas grumbled, but there was a smile hiding just under the surface; Dean could see it as he turned.

"C'mon, Mare," he said, kneeling to zip up her jacket before leading her out the door. "Daddy needs his shut-eye."

* * *

Castiel woke up to Dean's voice drifting in from the other room. He kept his eyes closed, not quite ready to wake all the way up quite yet, just letting the sound of it wash over him, familiar and comforting: "...talk to him about it later today. Yeah, he's still sleeping. Lazy bum." Dean chuckled, his voice coming closer, stopping just outside the bedroom. "Thanks for that, Bobby. I'll let you know. Talk to you later."

The bed dipped and a warm hand cupped his jaw, rough palm scratching against his stubble. "Still dozing, sleeping beauty?" Dean asked him, and Castiel opened one eye a crack to look up at him.

"Not anymore." He turned his head to press a kiss to Dean's fingers before sitting up and yawning magnificently, stretching his arms toward heaven. "What time is it?"

"'Bout ten-thirty. I was wondering if you were actually gonna make it until noon."

"I can barely remember the last time I slept past nine," Castiel said. He sat up on his elbows. "What did Bobby want?"

Dean shrugged, scratching the short hairs at the back of his neck in that way he did when there was something weighing on his mind. "Nothing, really," he said. "Actually, I guess I should say I needed something from him. Kinda wanted to talk to you about that."

"Alright."

"Well I was thinkin', Cas...You make good money and all, and I loved doing the whole stay-at-home dad thing for a while, but Mary's in second grade now. I'm not exactly complaining about having time to myself, believe me, but-"

"You want to go back to work at Bobby's," Castiel finished.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I do. Just part time for now, so I'll still be around when Mary gets home from school. But I'm going out of my mind just sitting around the house all the time. And ah...between you and me..." He looked down, seeming sheepish. "I'm getting a little pudgy..."

Castiel couldn't help but smile at that. "You're not."

"Yes I am. And the gym isn't bad, but I want to be out working in the open air, you know? I've never been a runner, and I can stand weight-lifting or those stupid elliptical things."

Castiel put a hand on Dean's knee to silence him, and when Dean met his eye again, he said, "You should do it."

Dean beamed at him. "You think so?"

"You're right...you shouldn't be sitting around the house. You're not meant to, Dean. And the extra money would be nice anyway. I'm sure Bobby would be glad to have you back. You know more about cars than anyone I've ever met. He could use your noodle just as much as your brawn."

Dean chuckled at that. "My noodle?"

"Yes. Your noodle. It's a pretty good noodle."

"Maybe," Dean relented. "Alright, I'll do it then. Put my noodle to work and work off this spare tire. I'll call Bobby back right now-"

Castiel reached out and grasped his arm just as Dean began to stand. "No."

Dean's eyebrow arched. "No?"

"Not...right now," Castiel clarified, and tugged him back down, hand wandering up his shoulder to rest against the back of his neck and pulling him in for a soft, languid kiss. Dean hummed into it, knowingly, it seemed, pulling away just enough for Cas to smile and tell him, "I've gone four days without touching you, Dean Winchester. Don't you dare make me wait even longer."

"Welcome home sex?" Dean asked.

"Welcome home sex."

"Awesome." The word was muffled against Castiel's mouth as Dean straddled him over the blankets, gently rocking his hips as his tongue skimmed across Castiel's bottom lip. It was so rare that they got a chance like this; with Castiel working full time and Mary being the inquisitive little eight-year-old that she was, opportunities to have each other all to themselves without having to worry about making too much noise were few and far between. They'd gotten good at being quick and quiet, sure, but there were times that Castiel just wanted to make love for hours and scream Dean's name to the rafters.

They traded heated kisses, the only sounds fabric sliding against skin and quiet groans and sighs. It took far too long for Dean to finally slide under the covers with him, and when he did, he paused. "Cas..." he said, red in the face and breathless as he glanced down. "Are you...already naked?"

He'd almost forgotten, and he bit his lip as he answered, "I was going to surprise you when you got home...but I fell asleep." He could have sworn the feeling that buzzed low in his chest was an odd sort of sheepishness, but Dean made him forget it when he leaned in and kissed him on the jaw, a laugh rumbling up from his belly.

"You're adorable, you know that?"

Castiel rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders. "And you've got some catching up to do." Dean didn't seem to have any problem with that. He toed off his socks and tugged his shirt over his head, Castiel's hands already working at his zipper by the time it came to rest crumpled on the floor.

Dean was hot and firm against his palm, and Castiel groaned impatiently as if he were the one being touched instead. This was his favorite part, feeling Dean grow hard at his touch, drinking in his tiny moans and guiding the natural rocking of his hips with a gentle hand. He could never get enough of watching Dean blush – though Dean would never admit to it – when he brushed the pad of his thumb against his pink cockhead.

Dean kicked his leg out from under the covers, his jeans dropping to the floor, but his boxers still hanging from one ankle. He ignored that, leaning down to kiss across Castiel's jaw and neck, hands wandering across his chest, his stomach, his hip bones...When Dean finally took him in his hand, Castiel gasped, his ribs rattling with the force of the frantic drum beats behind them.

They panted against each other's skin, languidly stroking, trading breathless moans and whimpering sighs. Castiel hooked a leg around Dean's calf, his free hand wandering up and around Dean's shoulder and settling against the small of his back, pushing him down against hips so that their erections brushed together. It was Dean that took them both in his hand, mouthing lazily at Castiel's neck as he thrust against him.

It was clear to them both that this wasn't going to last. It never did when they were like this, hungry for touch, just as desperate to feel the other come as to reach that peak themselves. Castiel's fingers wrapped around Dean's wrist, loosely, not guiding or fighting, but just to feel the flex and stretch of tendons and muscle beneath Dean's skin. Dean's eyelashes flicked soft as a breeze against Castiel's cheek as he glanced up, and Castiel had to smile until Dean kissed it away.

He knew he was going to come, could feel it creeping up from his toes and making the knot in the pit of his stomach grow tighter and tighter, Dean's body blazing against his skin. There was no point trying to hold it off, and none in telling Dean that he was moments away from that blissful precipice; he already knew from the curl of Castiel's toes against his leg and the rolling of his hips more insistent than the waves of a stormy sea. Dean knew from the tension in his voice and stomach and the way Castiel bared his neck to him as he threw his head back against the pillow, messy hair forming tiny black tendrils against the white fabric. He always knew, and Castiel could  _feel_  the toothy grin against his pulse point as his moans punctuated every jerking thrust, each sound higher, louder, more breathless and urgent than the last.

Dean knew him  _too_  well, well enough to pinpoint that one quivering moment when Castiel's back bowed up off the bed and his fingers pressed hard against the skin of Dean's shoulders, the spring in his belly pulled taught, just waiting for the last tiny press to release it. Dean could see it, feel it, and he paused, drew back, and just looked, and in that one tiny moment, Castiel watched him through hooded eyes, some part of his brain registering an expression of sheer wonder painting the backdrop that framed that soft smile.

He couldn't breathe, his whole body shaking on the verge of orgasm. It would have been so easy to push up against Dean's hand and come right then, but he didn't. He let out the last of his breath, a mere whisper – "Dean..." – and Dean leaned forward, lips rasping against the shell of his ear.

"I got you," he said, and Castiel gave himself up to it, fingernails raking down Dean's back as he came.

He was smiling as he came down, but didn't realize it until Dean groaned and collapsed against him, fingers slowly unwrapping from around their cocks and finding its way to Castiel's shoulder. The puff of breath that caught Castiel's neck as Dean laughed against his skin warmed him down to his toes. "That didn't take long..." Dean said as he rolled off of him, nose brushing against the crook of Castiel's neck and finding a comfortable home there.

"I missed you," was all Castiel said as an explanation.

Dean hummed and kissed his clavicle. "Missed you too."

"Clearly."

"Oh, shut up," Dean chided, whacking him lazily on the arm before reaching for the bedside table to grab a tissue that he used to wipe the semen from Castiel's stomach before it dried there. He tossed it toward the trashcan – missing by a solid foot at least – and lay down beside him, fingers trailing absently up and down Castiel's chest. "How was the conference?" he finally asked, and Castiel sighed deeply.

"Long," he said. "But interesting."

"I bet it was, lab geek." Dean chuckled, and Castiel had to smile right back at him, his endorphin high still flooding through his veins. "Wish I could have been there for your talk on...what was it, hematosomething?"

"Hematopathology. Specifically the benefits of using emerging microscopy techniques to detect certain cancers of the-" He stopped short when Dean pretended to snore against his shoulder, and he shoved him. "Very funny."

Dean snuggled up against him, finally kicking his boxers off all the way and letting them drop on the floor. "C'mon, Cas. You know I'm proud of you." He patted Castiel on the chest. "Not every day you get to lecture a room full of doctors about medicine."

"It was nerve-wracking, actually," Castiel admitted. "My people skills have never been the best. That's why I chose to work in a lab in the first place." He took Dean's hand, lacing their fingers together and running his thumb over every little bump and callus. "I do love it. I love the puzzle...and knowing I'm helping people. Maybe not in the same way heart surgeons do, or policemen, or EMT's. But helping them in my own way..."

"Saving the world, one biopsy at a time," Dean crooned, grinning wide and squeezing his hand. He always got so clingy after sex, always wanted to touch and hold and caress. It was yet another bullet mark to add to the ever-growing list of things Castiel loved about him.

"So you have been paying attention."

Dean shrugged. "I drift in and out."

They spent the next few minutes exchanging lazy kisses and letting their hands roam wherever they pleased, only getting out of bed and dressing when Castiel's stomach indignantly reminded him that he had yet to eat breakfast. It felt like sliding a missing puzzle piece back into place when he sat down at the kitchen table and watched Dean make him eggs on toast. His coffee was hot and bitter, and he closed his eyes and hummed his appreciation for the perfection of it.

"What did you bring back for Mary?" Dean asked as he sat across from him, nibbling on a piece of toast slathered with butter.

"A coloring book," Castiel said through a mouthful of egg. "You said she was almost through her last one. X-Men, this time."

"She'll like that." Dean reached out and stole a sip of Castiel's orange juice to wash down his toast. "What was the other one?"

"The other one?"

"You said you got her two, remember?"

"Oh, right. Well, to be honest, the second one isn't really a...thing, per se. Not yet, anyway."

Dean furrowed his brow at him. "What do you mean?"

Castiel swallowed and leaned back in his seat. Now was as good a time as any to discuss it, he supposed. "I was thinking...tonight, I could take her to the pet store and she could pick out a fish."

"A fish?"

"Yes. She loves animals, Dean. And fish are a good first pet for small children. Easy to take care of and pretty to look at. It could be hers. She could name it and take care of it, learn about responsibility, good habits, and eventually it could provide a...gentle lesson about mortality, I suppose..."

Dean stared at him a moment, whole-wheat crust pinched between his fingers. "So...you want to get our kid a fish to teach her about death?"

"No of course not! But...didn't you ever have a goldfish growing up?"

"Nope."

Castiel bit the inside of his cheek. No, that wasn't surprising. It would have been hard to look after anything more demanding than a pet rock moving around as much as Dean had growing up. "Either way...it's just a fish. Hardly a big commitment. And it would be good for her."

"I'm not saying it's a bad idea, Cas. Hell, I'm all for it. She'd flip over it. I just don't want to be having a fish funeral in two days, you know?"

"She's a smart girl, Dean," Castiel said with a fond smile. "I think she's more than capable of keeping it alive for a week at least."

Dean huffed out a laugh and popped the last of the crust into his mouth. "Alright," he said, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head. "Get her a fish. She'll probably love it more than the coloring book."

"I don't know...X-Men will be a tough act to follow."

"Damn straight," Dean said, and he leaned forward in his chair. "But ah...we've got a lot of time until Mary's through with school...Got the house all to ourselves." His hand meandered across the table to cover Castiel's, fingers trailing playfully across his skin. "What do you say to round two?"

Castiel arched an eyebrow at him. "You really need to ask?"

* * *

"That one!" Mary cried, pointing excitedly at the tank as Dean hoisted her up in his arms. "That one right there! The gold one!"

"They're all gold," Dean pointed out. Honestly, they all looked the same. He had no clue what difference it made which one they got. A goldfish was a goldfish was a goldfish. But it sure seemed to make a bit difference to her anyway, and that was the point, wasn't it?

"The  _gold_ one." She tapped on the glass, and the fish scattered. If there had been one specific one she really wanted, it disappeared with the rest in a cloud of bubbles.

Gently, he lowered her arm. "Don't tap on the glass, Mare. The fish don't like it.

She frowned at the tank, reaching out again, this time to rest a palm flat against the glass. "Sorry, fishies..."

"Hey, show me which one you wanted again, huh? Daddy's getting the tank for him-"

"Or her," she insisted.

"Or her...and when you pick out the one you want, we can go home and get it set up in your room."

Mary was silent a moment before pointing at the tank again. "There! That one, that one!" Dean chuckled and put her down.

"Alright, alright. I see it." Maybe he really had missed out on something by not having a fish as a kid, if it was really as amazing as she was making it seem. But there was no going back, not that he wanted to anyway. The best he could do was buy a fish for his daughter instead.

It took forever getting out of the store once they'd gotten the fish – the gold one, just as Mary had insisted – just like it always did. She had to spend at least ten minutes saying goodbye to the brightly colored macaw near the entrance, waving and gesticulating wildly until it finally said, "Bye-bye." It was pretty damn cute, he had to admit, but he had no plans to get her a bird anytime soon.

She held the plastic bag containing the fish in her lap on the ride home, staring down at it the whole way. "What are you going to name it?" Cas asked her, and her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Zeppelin," she finally said.

"Zeppelin as in...Led Zeppelin?" Dean asked, and when she nodded and shot him that megawatt grin of hers, he damn near choked up. "That's my girl."

* * *

Cas spent a long time tucking Mary in not too long after they got home, sitting on the edge of her bed and running a hand through her hair as he read to her. _Goodnight Moon_  of course. What else? She was asleep halfway through, but Cas finished it anyway. He was a sucker for tradition.

Dean smiled at him from where he leaned against the door frame when Cas closed the book and gently leaned in to kiss the crown of Mary's head. The fish swam happily in its bowl on her desk, the water filter humming softly.

"She'll need a haircut soon," Cas said as he closed the door behind him. "It's getting long. And you're not allowed to cut it this time."

"It wasn't that bad," Dean defended.

"It looked like she had a run-in with a lawnmower."

Dean pouted. "That's just hurtful."

Castiel flopped down on the couch in the living room, stretching his legs out on the cushions. Dean didn't wait for an invitation to lie next to him, resting his head on Castiel's chest. Cas picked up the TV remote, flipping through a few channels absently before stopping on a cooking show and half-watching.

They lay there in near silence for about half an hour before Dean said, "We should go on a honeymoon." When Cas glanced down and made a questioning grunt, he pushed up on his elbows. "I mean it, Cas. We never got one. Not really. I mean, we spent a few days on Garth's boat after the ceremony, and don't get me wrong, they were an awesome couple of days..."

Cas smiled at him. He could have sworn it was a smirk. Smug bastard. "They were."

"But we should go somewhere, just the two of us. I don't get to spend a lot of time with you alone, Cas. And I love Mary more than anything. You know I do. But damn, I missed this...just being able to have you all to myself like that." He ran a hand up Cas' chest, gently straddling his hips. "I like being able to hear you make all those noises I love so much."

"I bet you do," Cas said, grasping his hand and squeezing. "I like hearing you too."

"Then let's go somewhere. You and me. I got it all worked out. We can wait until summer, when Mary's done with school. Sam and Jess can look after her for a few days while we're gone. Maybe after, we could all spend a weekend together." He grinned. "Sammy loves her like crazy. Jess too. They'd jump at the chance to have her stay with them, and I know Mare would love being able to play with their dogs."

Castiel's hands wandered up Dean's arms, fingers brushing against his shoulders and down across his back until they settled in the gentle curve of his spine near the hem of his jeans. "I'd like that," he murmured. "I'd love to take a honeymoon with you, Dean."

Dean swore he felt as happy as if Cas had agreed to marry him all over again, and it must have shown on his face, because Cas grinned widely and tugged him down for what had to be their thousandth kiss that day.

"Run away with me, Cas," Dean muttered against his mouth. The laugh he got in return tasted as sweet as apple pie.


	2. Snow Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Kevin Tran. You'll always be advanced placement in my heart.

The first snow of the season was far overdue, but that didn't make it any less of a shock when Dean was woken up by a knee being shoved unceremoniously against his thigh. He came to with an indignant sputter, reaching out to move Mary before she kneed him in the junk, but she continued to bounce like an excited puppy, barely even noticing.

"Papa! Daddy! It's snowing! Look!"

"That's nice, Mare..." Dean muttered, rubbing his eyes. Wasn't he supposed to be the one coercing the kid to get out of bed in the mornings? It wasn't supposed to be the other way around unless it was Christmas Day.

She moved over to Cas, shaking him awake. Poor guy. It figured that it would snow on a Sunday, meaning that he'd be pulled out of bed by an excited eight-year-old rather than being able to sleep in on his day off. Honestly, Dean had been hoping for the possibility of some sleepy morning sex, but that was out of the question now. "Daddy, Daddy! Snow!"

"Mwhat?" Cas rolled over like a groggy dragon, blinking at his daughter as she jumped off the bed and ran down the hall, bare feet pattering down the steps toward the living room.

"It's snowing," Dean said.

"So I gathered," Cas murmured, still sounding half asleep.

Dean chuckled and patted him on the arm. No doubt Mary was staring out the window, eyes wide and wondering as she planned out just where she was going to build a snow man in the yard. He rolled over and glanced outside through the gap in the curtains. Snow was falling in light flurries still, but there were already at least four inches on the ground, everything covered in a blanket of white. It was beautiful, sure, but he would have preferred spending a lazy day in bed watching it fall to going out in it.

"You stay in bed. Sleep a little longer," Dean said, leaning down to kiss Castiel's temple. "I'll get some breakfast in her and take her outside."

"No, no, I'm-" Cas yawned. "I'm up." He hoisted himself out of bed, shivering a bit as he got out from under the blankets and went to dress.

Castiel was the one who made breakfast in the end: sausage, biscuits, grapes and sliced apples. He whistled while he cooked the meat and chopped the fruit, pausing only for a moment to pop a grape into his mouth when it rolled out the bowl while he was washing them. All this was only after he'd had his coffee, of course. Dean couldn't even begin to imagine him functioning on any level higher than a caveman without it.

"I've always loved snow," Cas was saying as he put the food on plates and set them down on the kitchen table. "It's gorgeous...until it starts to melt, anyway."

"And not when you have to shovel it out of the driveway," Dean added. "When Dad and Sam and I lived up in Montana for a while when I was fourteen or so, I shoveled driveways for some extra cash." He bit a sausage in half and chewed, his fingertips feeling cold just from the memory of all that bitter snow. "Not a fun couple of snow days for me."

"I promise you won't be shoveling anything," Cas told him. "Though I doubt you'll get away without making a snowman."

Mary perked up at that, like a puppy hearing the word "treat." "I wanna make a snowman!" she proclaimed. "And a snow angel! Lots of them!"

"Eat your breakfast first, Mare," Dean told her. She pouted, but she ate at least, and Dean could handle a little pouting. God only knew how much Cas did it sometimes.

After breakfast, he bundled Mary up in her winter coat, boots and warm mittens. She frowned as she wiggled her fingers in them; she'd always had this weird hang-up about her hands, and hated having anything covering them like that. It had been that way since she was barely old enough to toddle around the house. "Can't I leave them off?" she asked, giving him those wide puppy eyes that she must have learned from Sam during one of his visits, Dean was sure.

"And freeze your fingers off? Not today, Mare." But he leaned down and kissed one mitten with a smile. "You'll thank me when your hands don't go numb."

He tugged a striped wool hat down over her dark bangs before she could argue anymore, and after pulling on his own coat and gloves, he was just about to head out the door to find a good patch of snow to start their snowman when Cas stopped them. "One more thing," he said, and wrapped a thick blue scarf around Mary's neck. It covered her mouth until she tugged it down to her chin again, making her look like she was drowning in winter-wear. Dean thought of that poor kid in  _A Christmas Story_ who tearfully cried about not being able to put his arms down for all the layers he was wearing and snickered.

"A scarf?" he asked. "Really, Cas?"

"It's pneumonia weather," Cas stated plainly. "You should be wearing one too, if you ask me."

"Nobody's getting pneumonia. But I'll wear a dang scarf if it'll make you feel better." The only one within reach was hanging on one of the hooks by the door. It was Mary's, officially, a gift from Castiel's older brother that was probably meant half as a joke because it was bright bubblegum pink. She hadn't taken to it. But what the hell? It was warm, at least, and if there was one thing he was determined to teach his daughter it was that boys could wear pink too.

He noticed Cas covering his mouth to hide his laugh, and Dean shot him an amused half-glare. "Happy?"

Cas just nodded. 

They rolled up balls of snow for their snowman in the back yard, happily finding that it packed together wonderfully. Well,  _they_  didn't do all that much, so much as  _he_  did. Not that he minded; after all, the snowman wound up being taller than Mary was. Dean sent her off to find some sticks for the arms and some gravel from the driveway for eyes and a mouth; it took her almost half an hour to find some that she liked, and her mittens were caked with frost from digging through the snow.

"What do you think, Mare?" Dean asked her, stepping back and wiping his gloves off.

"He's naked!" Mary said with a giggle, and Dean brought a hand to his chin, humming thoughtfully.

"You're right...here." He tugged off the pink scarf – it was a relief, really; that thing was itchy as sin – and wrapped it around the snowman's thick neck instead. "Better?"

"He still needs a nose." Both of them turned toward the voice just as Cas came down the porch steps with a banana in his hands. He stuck it just below the snowman's gravel eyes, and Mary and Dean both laughed at the comical image of the crooked brown and yellow nose that now curved down toward its mouth.

"A banana?" Dean asked.

Cas shrugged. "We were out of carrots."

He'd only just noticed that Mary had slipped out of his field of view and gone quiet when a wad of cold, wet snow splattered all over his hip. The little demon that had launched it at him was giggling from just the other side of the snowman, her ice-covered mittens covering her mouth. "You did  _not!_ " Dean cried, bending down to pack some snow of his own together, and Mary was off running by the time he straightened up. He let the snowball fly, but it missed, leaving a wet, icy patch on the fence instead.

"Can't catch me!" Mary chimed, but Dean had other plans. Grinning, he made another quick snowball and chased after her, round and around the yard. The next one he threw caught her in the back, but she just laughed and turned to throw another one of her own. It wasn't packed together as well as the first, and broke apart as it flew, meaning he got a cold spray of snow in the face and neck, and he sputtered, wiping his eyes.

"That's playing dirty!" he told her, chuckling, but she ran up to him and shoved a big handful of snow against his belly in retort. Dean let out a theatrical groan and fell backwards into the snow, breath puffing white in front of his lips as he laughed.

Mary started piling snow on top of him, and he looked up at her. "What're you doin'?"

"Burying you."

"Aww..." Dean pouted, but he smirked, glancing up at Cas who was now leaning against the railing on the porch steps. He sat up on his elbows, leaning close to Mary and muttering, "I got a better idea..."

Cas realized something was up the moment the two of them stood and started walking toward him with their hands folded behind their backs. "What's going on?" he asked dubiously, backing away from the porch with one eyebrow raised.

Dean just shrugged, and Mary cutely told him, "Nothin'..."

Two steps later, Cas barely had a chance to turn and start to run before both Dean and their daughter loosed an armful of snowballs.

All three of them were breathless and covered in snow by the time they all collapsed on their backs by the snowman, watching the sky. "You ass," Cas muttered in Dean's ear, soft enough so that Mary couldn't hear him. Maybe it was the cold making him so giddy, but he downright giggled and turned to give Cas a long, lingering kiss, only pulling away when Mary indignantly said, "Ew!"

It wasn't just the cold making him and Cas red in the cheeks as they chuckled and laced their fingers together over the snow.

They left three rather lopsided snow angels behind when they all came inside to warm up and have lunch, and after, they sat down to hot chocolate. Dean put a generous helping of big, fluffy marshmallows in both his and Mary's mugs, but Cas drank his own plain. "You're missing out on the best part," Dean told him, but Cas just shrugged.

"I always thought the best part of hot cocoa was the cocoa," he said, taking a thoughtful sip. Dean rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. 

Mary took a sip and grimaced, and when Dean asked her what was wrong, she just muttered, "S'hot..." All this time and she still managed to forget that yes, hot chocolate was hot. "Blow on it first, bug," Cas reminded her gently. "You don't want to burn your mouth."

It was a knock on the front door that made them all pause, Dean with his mug halfway to his mouth. "I'll get it," he grumbled. Just his luck that someone would come to the door when his drink was just starting to approach that perfect temperature that would warm his bones without scalding his tongue in the process. If it was too cold by the time he sat back down, he'd be seriously pissed, but at the rate Mary was drinking hers now, he figured she might just finish it for him before he got back to the table.

The first thing he noticed when he opened the front door was short red hair standing out like a beacon against a snowy backdrop. Even if it was half hidden behind a thick, multicolored scarf, the face and the gleaming smile were familiar.

"Hey Batman," Charlie said, and Dean's breath puffed white between his lips as he laughed and leaned in to hug her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, wrapping his arms around himself as he pulled away to ward off the cold seeping in from outside. Geez, it had gotten bitter, and the sky was still gray, threatening more snow.

Charlie shrugged, or it might have been a shiver. "I was around...Figured I'd drive by your house and see what you'd done with the place, and your lights were on. So here I am!" She leaned in to glance inside. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

He chuckled. "Nah. We just made hot chocolate. You wanna come in?"

She didn't hesitate to take him up on that, wiping her boots on the welcome mat and shuffling inside as she pulled off her gloves. "Yeah, thanks. I'm freezing my fingers off out here." Dean closed the door behind her and rubbed his arms, to warm them up after the bite of the cold had left them the slightest bit numb.

The soft patter of feet on the wood floor was all the warning they got before Mary sprang around the corner and cried, "Aunty Charlie!" and rushed at her, throwing her little arms around Charlie's legs. Charlie didn't seem to mind, not that Dean had expected her to; she'd been hopelessly smitten ever since she'd first met Mary. If his memory served him right, their daughter had had a thing for chewing on Charlie's hair when it had been longer and she'd been little. It seemed any danger of that was past now, though, since Charlie's hair barely covered the tops of her ears and Mary had long since gotten over that stick-everything-within-reach-in-her-mouth phase. Thank God.

"Oh my god!" Charlie crooned, hugging Mary tight and mussing up her hair. "You're getting so tall! One good growth spurt and you'll be taller than me." She looked up at Dean, imploringly. "Don't let her get taller than me."

He knew it was mostly for show; even though she was growing quickly, Mary was still small for her age and a skinny little thing despite having a plenty healthy appetite. But her cheeks were rosey and she hardly ever got sick, and she had enough energy to leave both Dean and Cas in the dust more often than not, so Dean hardly had it in him to worry about her. Besides, Sam had been the same way: too small to play sports in school until he'd hit his growth spurt and shot up so fast that his hand-me-down clothes couldn't keep up. Even if Mary and his not-so-little little brother didn't share any blood, it couldn't be crazy to assume that she could very well end up being able to beat up a linebacker. Hell, maybe she'd be a linebacker herself.

Dean smiled at the idea just as Mary proudly announced, "I'll be eight and a half next month!" Charlie beamed at her as she untangled her scarf, letting it hang over her arms in a colorful bundle.

"God, you look just like your dad, you know that?" Mary nodded and pushed a strand of dark hair back behind her ear, and pride swelled in Dean's chest; he so often forgot just how true it really was. "Speaking of Cas, where is your better half anyway?" Charlie shook the snow from her hair and hung her coat up by the door. "He's not still off in his lab somewhere like a mad scientist, is he?"

"Not quite mad," Cas said, finally making his entrance with his mug still cupped in his hands.

"Give it a while," Dean told him. "You'll get there." Charlie already had her arms around Cas, squeezing him and grinning as she stepped back.

"God, look at you guys," she sighed. "All settled in...one big, happy family. With hot chocolate and and your own house. It's so...domestic." She shoved Dean in the arm, playfully. "Next thing you know you'll be getting a spare tire and a bald spot, am I right?"

His smile faltered, just a bit, and he scratched the back of his neck. Charlie winced. "Okay...tweaked a nerve. Was it the spare tire thing or the hair thing? Because you look good, and so does your hair."

"Thanks," Dean said, and even if it felt forced, there wasn't any bitterness in it. Who cared if he'd gained a little extra weight around the middle? Maybe it was just the mark of a stay-at-home dad for the moment. But he didn't plan on losing his hair anytime soon.

Mary tugged on Charlie's shirt. "Daddy brought me an X-men coloring book," she said. "You wanna see?"

Charlie's face lit up at that. "Hell yes! Oop-" She covered her mouth. "I mean heck yes."

All four of them sat back down at the kitchen table, with Charlie and Mary leaning close to one another bent over her coloring book. Dean's hot chocolate was the perfect temperature, by some miracle. That miracle was probably Cas re-heating in the microwave while he was up, Dean figured, but he wasn't going to question it.

"So who's your favorite X-man?" Charlie was asking her. "I've always liked Professor X. You know, he's the brains of the whole operation. And Cerebro? How awesome is that thing?"

"Professor X? Seriously?" Dean scoffed. "Wolverine's the best. Easy."

"Wolverine is awesome, but come on! Professor X can get into anyone's head. That's some serious power."

"You're both wrong," Mary told them, still busy coloring. She held up the page for them to see. "Mystique is the best."

"Mystique isn't an X-man, though," Cas said, but she just shrugged.

"So? She's still cool. She can look like anyone she wants, but she stays all blue most of the time and doesn't care what anyone thinks about it."

"Wow," Charlie murmured, blinking. "That's...that's a really good point. Guys, your kid is blowing my mind here."

Cas smiled. He almost looked smug. "She does that."

A moment later, Mary set down her colored pencil and looked up at them. "Daddy, can I go back out in the snow?"

"Go see if your mittens are dry," Cas told her. "It's getting colder outside and I don't want you going out in wet clothes." She was running off when he'd barely finished speaking, and he leaned back in his chair and sighed, smiling to himself none the less.

"She's a little ball of lightning, isn't she?" Charlie said.

"Trust me, we know," Dean told her with a chuckle. "She wears me out."

"I don't see how people do it. I mean I like kids, but it still blows me away."

"So you don't think you'd ever have any of your own?" Cas asked her.

Charlie shrugged. "I dunno...It hasn't really come up. I mean, let's be honest, I don't really have to worry about any accidental pregnancies, you know what I mean?" She ran a finger a cross the rim of her mug before taking another sip. "I never talked about it with anyone I've been with."

"That reminds me, how's Gilda?" Dean asked. "You two still..."

She shook her head, a little sadly, it seemed. "We broke up a while ago, actually. She had to go back to be with her family, and the whole long-distance thing just didn't work out." She smiled, looking up at them again before they had the chance to feel bad for her. "But I met someone else. Dorothy. We've been dating a few months now. We went to stay with her family over Christmas, and one of her cousins has like five kids or something, all younger than Mary. I'd go crazy! I mean, we were only there for a week, and we couldn't get a single second of alone time, if you know what I mean."

Dean laughed to himself, because yes, he definitely knew what she meant. "Trust me, I get it. It's not easy." He nodded over toward Cas. "Especially not with this one being one hell of a screamer-"

" _Dean._ "

He didn't need to look over to know that Cas was glaring daggers at him, but he just laughed it off before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "Relax. I'm not gonna spill all your dirty secrets."

"They're safe with me, though," Charlie assured them, and Cas elbowed Dean lightly in the arm before picking up his mug again.

It wasn't long before Mary managed to drag Cas into the back yard – with dry mittens, of course – leaving Dean and Charlie alone in the kitchen. "So," Dean said. "Dorothy."

"She's amazing," Charlie sighed. "She's adventurous and brave and sweet."

"Hot?" Dean asked knowingly, eyebrow raised.

"Duh." She smirked at him. "We're taking a cross-country trip together. We started in New York, and we're going all the way to San Francisco. It's amazing. I've never felt happier."

He could tell by the flush in her cheeks and her wistful smile when she talked about this Dororthy woman who was apparently so incredible, and he smiled at her. "So you're just passing through, then?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "When am I not? Dorothy's back at the hotel. We're leaving tomorrow. But I wanted to see you guys. I haven't been in Lawrence in forever, and I missed you, okay?"

"Course you missed me," Dean said with a grin. "What's not to miss?"

They slipped into a comfortable silence, taking to watching their hot chocolate swirl in their mugs instead of drinking it. Finally, Charlie said, "You know I'm really proud of you, right?"

He huffed out a soft laugh. "Yeah?"

"Yeah...I mean, you and Cas? I always knew you guys would get together. And then it finally happens, and two years later you've got a kid. Not long after that, you're getting married. Like  _actually_ married. How insane is that?"

"Pretty insane," he said with a warm smile.

"And now you guys have this house, and you look so happy...I knew it, you know? I just knew it."

"Yeah, well gold star for you," Dean told her, grinning. He felt so warm inside, like there was a fire crackling heartily under his ribs, and it had nothing to do with the hot chocolate.

Charlie leaned close after a beat. "Is he really a screamer?"

Dean snickered. "Hell yeah."

"Wanna know something?" Dean nodded, and she looked around carefully before saying, "Dorothy's the same way. I love it."

"God, I know."

They broke down into a fit of healthy laughter that left Dean feeling warmer than he had in ages.

* * *

It was moments like this that Castiel cherished more than anything.

He and Dean were curled up in their bed, watching through the curtains as the snow fell in light drifts outside. Mary was tucked in between them, deep asleep, her head on Castiel's chest. His hand roamed up and down her arm, soothing her even in sleep, keeping any bad dreams away.

He was, for all intents and purposes, perfectly content.

"It was good to see Charlie," he murmured, keeping his voice soft so as not to wake their daughter. Dean hummed, glancing over, seeming to come out of some sort of trance induced by the snow falling outside.

"Oh, yeah. It was. I missed her."

"So did I. And Mary did too." He looked down at their daughter, running a hand through her long dark hair. "I'm glad she's happy. What was the woman's name again? The one she's seeing now?"

"Dorothy," Dean said. "Like from Oz."

He leaned closer, resting his head on Dean's shoulder. Minutes passed in silence. The only way he knew that Dean hadn't fallen asleep was the slow migration of the familiar warmth of his hand traveling up and down his thigh.

"The schools will probably be closed tomorrow," Castiel said.

"Probably. It's alright. Bobby doesn't need me back until next week anyway, so I'll be home with her."

"She'll be happy about the snow day, I'm sure."

"What eight-year-old wouldn't be?" Dean asked with a chuckle. He turned and pressed a kiss to the top of Castiel's head. "You know, we never got that scarf off the snowman. It'll probably be buried in the morning."

"Good riddance," Castiel said. "That thing was ugly as sin."

Dean laughed so loudly that Mary stirred, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "Is it still snowing?" she asked sleepily. Castiel hummed his affirmation. "Do you think school will be closed tomorrow?"

"We'll see," Castiel said. "But it's bedtime for you anyway."

For once, she didn't argue. It seemed she was still half-asleep as it was, and she pushed herself up and hopped off the bed. "Did you feed Zeppelin?" Dean asked her, and she nodded. "You gonna brush your teeth?" Another sleepy nod.

She waited by the stairs until Dean got up and followed, leaving Castiel with a peck on the cheek and a promise that he would be back in a minute. Castiel burrowed down into the covers, watching the snow fall outside. It felt like just a few moments had passed when Dean returned, closing the door behind him.

"Poor thing's beat," he said as he slid into bed beside him. "All that running around in the snow really wiped her out."

"Not just her," Castiel said, yawning to prove his point.

Dean shifted, pressing closer and kissing his neck lightly. "Too tired to..." He trailed off, but Castiel knew what he meant, and he grinned and turned in Dean's arms, kissing him deeply and nudging him onto his back.

They moved slowly, almost lazily, pausing only so that Castiel could reach out and turn off the lamp on the bedside table. The only light filtered in from outside, reflecting off the snow and casting a soothing blue glow across the room.

Aside from the occasional moan of the wind, all they could hear was each others breaths and their muted sounds of pleasure as Castiel sank into him. With Dean's legs hooked around his waist, he kept his thrusts gentle and unhurried, letting his hands wander as he pressed their foreheads together.

Neither of them really knew how long it took for them to gasp against each others skin. It was a slow, simmering peak that left Castiel with a deep heaviness in his bones and a flush in his cheeks. He fell asleep what felt like mere seconds after he'd rolled to the side and pressed his nose to Dean's shoulder, breathing him in.

Outside, the wind howled and the snow piled higher and higher, but Castiel was warm enough to last the winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a rough floor plan sketch for reference. If anyone is interested in seeing what the house is supposed to look like, it can be found [here](https://24.media.tumblr.com/07386bf9bc68630679664df2dafd9ad2/tumblr_mxieiwdX6k1rzfa5ao1_1280.png).


	3. Point of View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh oh god oh god I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. I never meant for this story to sit idle for so long. Life got in the way, and other writing projects, and just a pure lack of motivation to be perfectly honest. I was going to do a Christmas chapter, and then it didn't happen. Then I was going to do one for Dean's birthday, and that didn't happen either...but here we are, and here's a new chapter, way overdue, but the next one will be done faster (and feature a bit of Uncle Sammy too!)

Dean had heard that old expression about March more times than he could count, but some years, it struck him more than others just how true it was. It had definitely come in like a damn lion, and a snarling, mangy, angry lion at that. They'd gotten more snow and freezing rain to last three winters. He'd thought there was no way it would get anywhere close to a lamb, but suddenly it was April, and he was out doing yard work and actually breaking a sweat.

Cas was in his garden, planting up a storm, covered in dirt with his T-shirt – actually one of Dean's old cotton tees – sticking to his body. Dean sure didn't mind. The view was nice. “Should we do the carrots next?” Cas asked Mary as she knelt beside him, cheeks smudged with mud and soil under her short fingernails.

She nodded and smiled, and Cas showed her how to poke a deep enough hole in the dirt for the seeds, letting her sprinkle them in before covering them. “How long until they're ready?” she asked him, and he ruffled her hair, getting even more dirt in it in the process.

“A few months,” he said, and she pouted. He kissed her temple. “We can just eat store-bought carrots until then. What next, bug? Peas? Or maybe onions...”

“How about you plant me a burger tree,” Dean said, dropping to his knees beside Cas and their daughter.

“Feel free to start raising cattle,” Cas countered. “Just not in the house.” Dean laughed and wiped his brow, and Cas grinned at him. “You've got dirt on your...everything.”

“Yeah, look who's talking.”

Mary was still digging around the edges of the vegetable garden, carefully avoiding the patches where they'd already planted their seeds. She pulled a fat earthworm out of the dirt and studied it with wide, curious eyes. “What are you doing to that poor worm?” Dean asked her.

“Nothing!” she said. “He's so pudgy.”

“And he's good for the garden,” Cas told her. “Make sure you put him back, bug.”

She nodded, but other than that, she barely seemed to hear him. She entertained herself by watching the worm crawl across the grass when she put it down before it burrowed into the first soft patch of earth it found. Honestly, Dean had thought that having a daughter would mean hearing complaints about how gross bugs and mud were, but Mary adored it all. That taught him not to hold to stereotypes, he supposed. But she was a dirty kid, and there were times in the summer when two baths a day was the norm. Maybe it just came with having an adventurous child. He was willing to deal with it.

The lawn was mowed and the bushes near the house were all trimmed, and even though it wasn't too terribly hot out, Dean was sweating like crazy. He wouldn't mind a bath himself later. Maybe he could share one with Cas.

“What time is it?” Cas suddenly asked him, breaking him out of a nice little daydream involving the two of them and a jacuzzi with high-powered water jets.

He checked his watch. “Almost three,” he said. It surprised him.

Cas stood, wiping dirt off his knees for all the good it did. “Come on, Mary. We have to get you cleaned up for that birthday party. You don't want to be late, do you?”

Dean had almost forgotten. Taylor, Mary's best friend from her school, was having a birthday sleepover. Mary had been looking forward to it all week. And now that Cas had reminded him of it, Dean had to admit that he was pretty damn excited too. It meant he and Cas would have the house all to themselves. Perfect.

So Cas went upstairs with Mary to get her clean and dressed, and Dean stayed in the yard and grabbed the garden hose to give his other baby a bath of her own. The Impala was sitting in the driveway in front of Castiel's sedan. He didn't drive her as much as he used to now. Cas had never thought to ask him to get rid of it; money had never been tight enough, and it had been his dad's, so the sentimental value was enough to make the decision an easy one. But as far as safety was concerned, Cas preferred something with airbags, and Dean really couldn't argue.

He hosed the bird crap off her windshield and sprayed off the mud, and by the time Cas came down with Mary again, she was close to pristine.

Mary cleaned up pretty good too. She'd gone from a muddy little amateur entomologist in an old ripped T-shirt and dirty shorts to sleepover-ready in a blue polka-dot dress and sandals. She even had a damn bow in her hair.

The phrase, “cute as a button” came to mind.

“You leaving?” he asked, and Cas pulled the keys to the sedan out of his pocket. He tossed Mary's overnight bag into the back seat and carefully handed her the present he'd wrapped the night before.

“I'll drop her off and be back in a few minutes,” he said, giving Dean a quick peck on the lips, and then another that lingered for a moment longer.

Dean hoped it was a promise.

He leaned down and straightened the bow in Mary's hair, kissing the crown of her head. “Cause some trouble, alright?”

“I will, papa,” Mary told him with a tiny little smirk.

“You're a bad influence,” said Cas.

“Hope so.”

Cas was halfway out of the driveway before Mary stuck her head out the window and called to him, “Don't forget to feed Zeppelin!”

Oh yeah, that fish of hers. It had become one of her favorite pass-times to sit and watch her – Mary was convinced that Zeppelin was a girl, no matter what anyone said about how difficult it was to sex goldfish – swimming around the bowl. It was kind of creepy sometimes how much she could zone out and just watch a fish swimming round and round and round...but it was better than her watching hours of mindless television, he guessed, and watching fish swim was supposed to be relaxing, wasn't it? Maybe it was her own little form of meditation.

He went inside and got straight into the shower, accidentally grabbing Mary's favorite shampoo before he realized what he was putting in his hair and just deciding that he'd have to accept smelling like candied apples for the rest of the day. It was better than smelling like sweat and dirt at least. He got out and toweled off and sat down in the living room with his laptop for a bit before Cas got home.

He had the pictures he was looking for up when Cas walked through the front door. “Hey,” he called. “C'mere. I want to show you something.”

“It's not porn, is it?” Cas asked him as he sat beside him.

“Ha ha.” Dean turned the screen toward him. On it was the gallery of pictures, all of a gorgeous two-story house surrounded by lush green trees, with a gravel driveway beside it and a balcony wrapping around its front. “What do you think?”

“What is it?”

“Nataya,” Dean told him. “It's a bed and breakfast up in Niagara.”

They had decided on Niagara Falls pretty quickly as the destination for their honeymoon that summer. Both of them liked the idea, but the only hang-up was that Cas refused to spend eighteen hours in a car to get there, so the only other option was flying. The thought of it still made Dean's stomach clench, so he chose not to think about it for now.

“It's nice,” Cas said, leaning against his shoulder and dragging his finger across the trackpad to scroll through the pictures. The rooms were just as nice as the outside, all soothing colors bathed in sunlight. “Very nice.”

“And look at this one. It's got a balcony and everything, and a fireplace and a king-sized bed.” He waggled his eyebrows at him, and Cas allowed himself a small smile before resting a hand on Dean's leg.

“I like it.”

“Awesome. Cause I'm all set to book us a room if you're sold.”

“It's awfully far in advance, don't you think?”

Dean shrugged. “We might as well. With your schedule being busy and all we have to plan far in advance, right?” He leaned close, brushing his lips against Cas' neck and feeling him tilt his head back and sigh. “I want this trip to be perfect, or as close to it as it can get anyway.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to the underside of Castiel's jaw.

“Dean.”

“Hm?”

“If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me.”

Dean's shoulders shook as he laughed. “What gave you that idea?” he asked as he mouthed at Cas' neck, nuzzling against his pulse point. He only stopped when Cas brought a hand to his arm, gently pushing him back.

“I need a shower.”

“You smell fine to me.”

“Well I feel disgusting. And it's my night to cook dinner, too.”

“We could order in.”

Cas hid his laugh well. “I already have the steaks marinating,” he said, rubbing Dean's thigh and leaning in to kiss him in the temple. “We'll have the house to ourselves all night, Dean. Don't worry. I plan on taking advantage of that, fully.”

* * *

Castiel loved to cook. Over the past few years, he'd gotten rather good at it, too. It was a lot like science, he thought: mixing several things together to get something new, applying heat to catalyze a reaction or mixing to speed things along. He always loved finding new recipes and trying them for himself. On the counter by the coffee maker, he had a huge binder full of them, for cakes and casseroles and stir fry and a hundred other dishes, and he'd made each and every one of them at least once, most of them twice or more.

Dean liked to experiment in the kitchen, adding spices that the instructions didn't call for or throwing in a pinch more of this or a little less of that to taste. It usually came out wonderfully; sometimes it didn't, but he always learned from his mistakes. He was a bit like a scientist in that way too, and Castiel loved to watch him work when he really got going.

But tonight he was keeping things simple. Castiel watched the steaks sizzling in the pan, browning them nice and evenly. He liked his meat on the rare side, but Dean preferred his good and cooked, so he took his own steak out to rest while he worked on Dean's a little longer.

A pair of arms wrapped around his middle from behind. “Smells good,” Dean said, pressing his nose to Castiel's neck. He could feel his lips moving against his skin, and he shivered.

“It's almost done. Could you get the broccoli out? It should be done steaming by now.”

Dean pressed a lingering kiss to his skin and moved up beside him, taking the pot off the other burner and carefully emptying the broccoli into the strainer in the sink. When he put it down on the counter again, he paused, looking pensive. “You think Mary's doing okay?”

Castiel shrugged. “Do you have any reason to think she isn't?”

“No, I just...I mean, she has nightmares if she eats sugar too close to bed, you know?”

Just like Dean to worry about their daughter. He was such a doting father to her; it warmed Castiel's heart, really. He smiled at him, reaching over to run a soothing hand across his hip. “She'll be fine,” he said. “I'm sure she's having a wonderful time.”

“Yeah...” Dean nodded, almost sounding like he was talking more to himself than anyone else, trying to convince himself that it was true. “Yeah, you're right.” He leaned over to watch Castiel take his steak out of the pan, setting it on the plate to rest. “God, I'm starving.”

“When are you not?”

“Well, the sooner it's ready, the sooner I won't be.”

Castiel smirked at him. “Eager, much?”

“Hey, it's a compliment! I love your cooking.”

“Quite right to.”

Dean pecked him on the lips. “So modest too.”

Dinner was delicious, if Cas could say so himself. The steaks turned out wonderfully, and Dean cut him off the minute he tried to mention that he probably should have let them marinate a little longer. “Don't you dare say anything negative about this,” he told him. “It's the best steak I've ever had.”

“You said the same about the steaks I cooked a few weeks ago.”

“I wasn't lying then, and I'm not lying now.”

He smiled and finished the rest of his dinner without any further criticism.

Afterward, they put in a movie and curled up on the couch together. It had started to rain lightly outside, but they didn't pay it any mind. Dean was warm, pressed up against him with his arm around Castiel's shoulders, and he snuggled up closer.

About halfway through the movie, he started pressing lazy kisses to the underside of Dean's jaw, and it only took a few moments for Dean to tilt his head to catch his lips with his own. Their legs tangled together and their bodies pressed close, they enjoyed their slow and languid makeout session, Castiel digging his fingers into Dean's hair and pulling him nearer, kissing him more deeply.

A tiny part of Castiel's brain warned him that this was risky, that Mary could find them at any minute, and he almost laughed at himself for still being stuck in that mindset. They had the house all to themselves, he reminded that careful little voice. Mary was having a wonderful time at her friend's house and they do whatever they pleased without having to worry about being too loud or too conspicuous.

“When was the last time we had sex on this couch?” Dean asked, voice husky.

Castiel couldn't honestly remember. “I don't know.”

Dean didn't say anything more, just smirked. Suddenly Castiel's world flipped over and he was on his back, with Dean pinning him down against the cushions and raining kisses down on his neck and jaw. “Should fix that,” he growled.

It took some shifting and some shuffling, but Dean settled between his legs, hips pressing down against his belly as he kissed and nipped at Castiel's skin, drawing a groan from his throat and making his toes curl in his socks. He could feel Dean poking at his hip through his sweatpants, but Dean didn't seem very concerned about that at the moment; he sank down lower, his lips moving across his chest, over his ribs, down his stomach until he had one leg hanging off the edge of the couch as he mouthed at Castiel's erection through his pants.

He let out a groan; there was nobody to hear them, no chance of them being interrupted, no point in holding back or trying to be quiet. His fingers stroked through Dean's hair, curling over his scalp. “Impatient?” he asked, and Dean smirked.

“Mmhm. And still hungry.”

Castiel laughed, a deep rumble in his chest. He wanted to make some quip about how very bad that joke was, but Dean was tugging his waistband and slipping a hand inside, and the minute his chapped lips wrapped around him, his mind went fuzzy.

Dean hummed, swiped his tongue across the head, and Castiel tangled his fingers in the short messy hair between his legs, fingernails grazing Dean's scalp. “Such a bad influence,” he managed, and Dean laughed as he pulled away.

“You keep saying that.”

“It's still true.”

“Maybe.”

Down he went again, and Castiel groaned and hooked a leg over Dean's shoulder, toes curling in his socks. The movie played on, the music in the background reaching a climactic crescendo as the hero swooped in through an open window, sword glinting in the sunlight. Drums pounded through the speakers, voices cried out in awe, horns trilled-

A phone rang.

“That's...oh...that's the phone,” Castiel said.

“Aww...forget it, Cas.” He stroked Castiel's erection lovingly as he stared up at him, lips still brushing against the tip as he spoke. “I'm just getting into my groove.”

The phone was stubborn, even more so than Dean, and Castiel had to push him away. Dean sat back on his haunches, pouting as Castiel reached for the phone, answering it and trying to mask the frustration in his voice.

There was a sniffle on the other line. “Mary?” Castiel's stomach clenched. “Is that you, bug?”

“Uh-huh...”

“What's wrong?” Dean scooted closer, concern knit into his brow. “She okay?”

“What's the matter, bug?” Castiel asked her, and her voice wavered as she answered.

“Suzie Brown is here...” she said, and Castiel covered the receiver and relayed the message to Dean, who frowned.

“What, the politician's kid?” Dean whispered.

Castiel held up a finger to pause him while he listened to Mary go on: “She said she wished Taylor didn't invite me. She said she shouldn't be friends with me cause I...” She sniffled and trailed off.

“Because?” Castiel prompted.

Her voice was small. “Cause I have two daddies...”

Castiel sighed. It wasn't the first time they'd heard it, but it still hurt. He and Dean could handle things like this. They had been for years, and it had gotten better. But when it got to their child, that was a different story. Dean was quick to anger when it came to people taking their problems out on Mary, but this was something different. This was a child parroting what she'd always been taught by her own parents, just like any child would do. Castiel couldn't wish Suzie any ill will, but for now, there were bigger things to deal with.

“You know she's wrong, don't you?” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you talk to Taylor's mom about it?”

“Taylor's mommy told Suzie she had to be polite to me. Cause it's Taylor's birthday party and she invited who she wanted.”

“And Taylor wanted you there. No matter what Suzie says, right?”

“Yeah...”

Castiel sighed, putting a hand on Dean's knee. “I'm sorry Suzie said that...but sometimes people say mean things because it's all they know. It doesn't mean she's a bad person. It's just what she's been taught. Sometimes you can't help it. All you can do is be as nice to her as you can. Maybe you can change her mind.”

“But what if I can't?”

“Well then, you'll just have to find people who don't think like her. There are more Taylors than there are Suzies, bug.”

Mary sniffled, but he could hear her tiny little smile. “Okay, daddy.” She paused. “Did you feed Zeppelin?”

“Yes,” Castiel lied. He'd take care of it later. “Now go on, Mary. Have fun. No matter what Suzie says, alright?”

“I will!”

Dean was still frowning, and the first thing out of his mouth when Castiel hung up the phone was, “What did that brainwashed little goblin say to our daughter?”

He shot him a warning look. “Dean...”

“I know, I know...” Dean sighed. “I just...I hate it, Cas. Suzie Whatsherface's parents can say whatever they want to us, but Mary-”

All it took was a kiss, a chaste little thing pressed to his swollen lips, and Castiel cupped his cheek with a small smile after he'd gone quiet. “I know.” He let out a long breath and leaned forward, until he was resting against Dean's chest, snuggled up close between his legs. “I hate it too. But it's not her fault. You know that. She's just repeating what she's always learned.”

“If her parents have a problem with us, they should say it to our faces. Or just butt out. Not sic their kid on ours.”

“They _didn't_ sic her on anyone. Suzie is what, eight or nine? She's still forming her own ideas about the world. Who knows, in a few years, maybe she'll start to question what her parents have always said. I know I did.” He smiled up at Dean, pressing another kiss to the underside of his jaw. “That's how the world changes.”

Finally, Dean's frown started to turn into a smile of his own. “How are you so eloquent when you were on the verge of an orgasm like five minutes ago?”

“I wasn't exactly on the verge,” Castiel said with a shrug. “And I'm adaptable.”

Dean ran a hand along the back of his head, tugging him up to kiss him properly. “How much do you care about watching the end of this movie?”

“Not at all.”

So they went up to bed instead.

* * *

Dean's mind kept wandering to Suzie Brown.

He didn't want to let it. He knew Cas was right. The kid was just spitting back what she'd always been taught. It wasn't her fault. Still, Mary was his  _daughter._ And just the thought of her being upset because of what some other kid at a sleepover had said about her parents just made his stomach churn. What right did Suzie have – what right did Suzie's parents have – to judge them, or to tell a little girl that she didn't deserve as much as others because she had two dads? None, of course, he told himself, and he huffed and pulled the sheets up close to his chin.

“You're dwelling on this, aren't you?” Cas called from the bathroom, words muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth.

“Dwelling on what?”

“You know what.”

Of course he did. Dean slumped. “I can't help it, okay? Nobody should get to say stuff like that to our kid.”

Cas spat into the sink, wiped his mouth on the towel beside it and turned to open the door, leaning on the frame, still naked. “Of course not.” He padded over to the bed. “But...she can handle herself, Dean. She's a tough little girl.”

“She shouldn't have to be.”

“It's not because she has to be. It's just in her nature.” He kissed Dean's temple, and Dean felt the anger that had been bubbling in his gut subside, if just a little. “I'll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To feed the fish,” Cas replied. “Mary would kill us if it died on our watch.”

Dean did manage to smile a bit at that. He snuggled down into the pillows, reaching over to turn off the light. The room was flooded with the blue-tinted glow of the moon outside. It was clear and beautiful out, now that the rain had stopped, a cool evening with the tiniest hint of a breeze. He watched the trees swaying, their new leaves rustling as the branches bent and bowed. Soon enough, Cas was back, slipping silently into bed and wrapping his arms around Dean's middle.

“You've lost weight,” Cas said.

“Now that I'm not sitting on my ass so much of the time, yeah.”

Cas pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “I kind of liked using you as a pillow.”

“You can still do that, you know.”

A hum, another kiss. “Did you book the room?” he asked. “At Nataya?”

“Yup.” Dean yawned. “It's official. Operation Honeymoon is a-go.”

He felt Cas smile against the nape of his neck. “That makes me...very happy.” He sounded sleepy, and before long, his breathing had slowed, and he was snoring softly against Dean's skin, spooned up against his back, one knee pressed gently between his legs. Dean watched the trees sway, forcing himself to stop thinking about Suzie and her parents. Mary was probably having a great time now, staying up way past her bedtime and eating all sorts of junk food. And if Suzie had a problem with it, well...that was hers to deal with, not any of theirs.

 


End file.
